


Pros and Cons

by 22amillion



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/22amillion/pseuds/22amillion
Summary: They're on their way back from the annual Lib Dem party conference when Adam starts to realise that this “fancying your boss a little bit” situation may be getting slightly out of hand.
Relationships: Adam Kenyon/Fergus Williams
Comments: 17
Kudos: 71





	Pros and Cons

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to Emily for always listening to my insane rambling about Adam and Fergus (and who also inspired a couple of ideas). I would also like to announce that I will be suing Ben and Geoffrey for making me care about a pair of Liberal Democrats, of all people.

They're on their way back from the annual Lib Dem party conference when Adam starts to realise that this “fancying your boss a little bit” situation may be getting slightly out of hand. Fergus, wiped out from 3 days of trying to persuade various members of the party that Peter doesn't, in fact, have a hand up his arse playing him like a 'Spitting Image' puppet (a beautiful piece of imagery provided by the manager of the local Tesco in Hove), fell asleep on Adam's shoulder in the back of the car somewhere near Horley, and Adam doesn't quite have the heart to wake him. He instead reserves himself to looking out the window at the passing traffic and trying not to focus on the feel of Fergus' hair against his chin as he gradually loses all feeling in his right arm. It's been a 2 hour long drive back from the Brighton Centre, and Adam has spent the majority of it trying not to think about the fact that he seems to be spending the majority of his life tidying up after Fergus at work, only to choose to spend more of his life tidying up after Fergus in his free time. He starts to wonder if he should be concerned at the amount of time they're spending together, but his train of thought is cut short as the car pulls up and slows to a gradual stop in front of Fergus' flat. 

“Ferg,” Adam says softly, shifting his shoulder under Fergus' head. Fergus stirs slowly, and Adam actually feels him wake up against his neck, the brush of his eyelashes against his skin wreaking havoc on all of Adam's internal systems.  
“We're here,”  
Fergus scrubs a hand over his face, runs his fingers through his hair and Adam has to clench the hand not currently flattened between his and Fergus' sides into a fist to stop himself from running his fingers over the lines on Fergusʼ face; something that he immediately, viscerally hates himself for. Sentiment - and Adam refuses to call it a stronger word than that - tends to end in one of two ways in their area of work; it either withers and dies out before it even begins, or it ends in catastrophe, and the complete fall out of the careers and social lives of both parties involved. Adam has long made peace with this, consigned to watching Fergus stumble out of the car and trying not to think about how he'd quite like to follow him into his flat and make him forget about the less-than-desirable responses he'd been met with at some of his policy ideas earlier that day. Although, Adam thinks as Fergus somehow manages to step in a puddle and drop his keys at the same time; there's something to be said about the efficiency of good old-fashioned repression. Besides, Adam contemplates as Fergus gives him a clumsy wave from the doorstep - he has a reputation to uphold. 

-

“Well then what is the fucking point of you?” is the first thing Fergus hears as he enters his office at DoSAC at 9:30am on a cold Tuesday morning. He finds Adam delivering insults down the phone at someone who Fergus doesn't envy at all, in his usual upper-register, deliberate sarcastic tone. He ends the call as Fergus is hanging up his coat, and Fergus has already gathered enough from the severity of the insults he'd been spitting down the phone to not be surprised at the irritated tone of the “you're late” Adam grumbles in Fergus' general direction in lieu of a greeting.  
“Had to take a diversion. Road traffic accident I think,” Fergus responds, chucking his phone down before taking a seat at his desk. “Surprised you didn't get caught up in it.”  
“Yeah, well, I decided to come in early, unlike some. I told you, Fergus, we've got that meeting with that twat David from the Home Office today, if he can pull himself away from impregnating various members of the cabinet for long enough to hold a conclusive fucking conversation...”

At this point Fergus tunes out, and finds himself focusing more on Adam's lips than the words that are coming out of them. He's started doing this a lot recently, he realises; looking at Adam, finding excuses to touch him, and he absently finds himself thinking back to a list entitled “Pros and Cons of Shagging Adam”, which he had written one night out of sheer frustration after getting hammered alone in his flat on a bottle of whiskey that his parents had bought him for Christmas three years prior. As is the current situation, Fergus is finding it harder and harder to remember the merits of the “cons” half of the list (i.e. his job) and seems to frequently find himself siding with the “pros” half, which in his drunken stupor had contained half-scrawled sentences such as “fucking frustrating suits”, “get to mess up his hair” and, memorably, the last point on the list which had simply just been the word “Adam”. Actually, he's not sure why he shouldn't just cross the room right now and grab him-

“Fergus!”  
Fergus snaps out of it to find Adam standing in front of him, hands on his hips, looking exceedingly cross and a little bit like he wants to strangle him.  
“Yeah, yeah, alright. Fucking hell, Adam, we've got four hours, don't get your dick in a twist. Go and give Terri a kick up the arse about that press pack,”  
Fergus watches Adam's back as he goes. Well, he thinks to himself. Crisis averted.

-

It's become a sort-of-tradition for Adam and Fergus to sack off the annual Christmas party at DoSAC and catch a taxi to a pub a bit further out than the one they usually frequent, far enough away that there's no chance of anyone from the office coming across them and inevitably ruining the evening.

By the time they stumble out the door at around midnight, they've already made a few enemies with the locals; namely because of an incident that included Adam recounting a tale about an aide that got stuck in a toilet cubicle at Downing Street, making Fergus laugh loud enough and hard enough to culminate in some of the regulars becoming visibly offended, more so when Fergus spilled half his drink across the table in his glee. Adam had tried to shush him half-heartedly, but with the lines creasing around Fergus' eyes as he smiled, and their feet half-tangled under the table, he couldn't find it in himself to fully care.

Now they find themselves stood outside in the freezing cold, Fergus deciding to wait for Adam's taxi with him before embarking on the short walk to his sister's house, where he's planned to stay the night in an effort to appease his mother, who had made it very clear that Fergus should be making more of an effort to maintain familial ties. This had been met with emphatic disputations from Fergus, who argued the only ties he would be making would be the noose around his neck if he had to attend one more enthusiastic family reunion. As a compromise, he'd agreed to spend more time with his sister, who was largely harmless, if a little probing with questions regarding his love life. 

Adam's still laughing at something from before; Fergus isn't completely sure what, choosing to focus instead on the way Adam looks when he's smiling - he should smile with his teeth more, Fergus thinks absent-mindedly, why doesn't he smile like that more often, and Fergus is aware that he's probably swaying slightly, that Adam's laughing at him-

Fergus stumbles forwards, not entirely by accident, but Adam is right there catching him. Like he always is, Fergus' drunk mind supplies, and Fergus has just enough cognition left to chastise himself for starting to think like he's out of a fucking Richard Curtis film. Adam's still smiling, his breath coming out in icy puffs in the cold air, his arms tight around him, and Fergus is fucking helpless to it; he leans forward and then he's kissing him.

There's a split-second of intense panic on Fergus' side before Adam makes a soft noise into Fergus' mouth, and then he's kissing him back. Adam's lips are cold, and he's still holding on to Fergus at an awkward angle, and Fergus is still a bit dizzy from the drink, but he has a sudden, encompassing realisation that blindsides him, knocks what little breath he had left out of him - this is so much more that just The Pros and Cons of Shagging Adam; this is a Pros and Cons of Marrying Adam, of Growing Old With Adam, of Having Fucking Kids With Adam- ok, well maybe not that last one, he's never really been a huge fan of kids, and then Adam's tongue is in his mouth, and he doesn't think much more after that.

-

After that night (or That Night, as Fergus refers to it as in his head), nothing much changes. They're still Adam and Fergus, except for when they're alone - then they're AdamAndFergus, or when they argue and one of them storms out; then they're either just Adam, or just Fergus, but it never lasts long - Fergus never does, never has on his own, and although Adam doesn't often show it, Fergus is starting to think that Adam needs him more than he lets on. Adam makes a habit of kissing the freckles under Fergus' eyes before he goes to sleep, and Fergus knows exactly how to calm Adam down when he's shouting abuse at MPs on Question Time, and it's good. He shows Adam the list, who is overjoyed, and immediately makes Fergus regret sharing it with him when he brings it up at family events. They make noises about getting dogs, about moving to the South Downs and buying a cottage, and Fergus knows with a brilliant clarity that he's going to marry this man, going to watch him get progressively angrier and more brilliant, and more fucking irritating as they get older, and he can't wait. I can't wait, he thinks as he looks down at Adam, asleep against his shoulder in the back of the car on the way to their flat. I can't wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @ferguswilliams, where I am even more unhinged than I am here, but boy oh boy am I a laugh.


End file.
